These Next Few Minutes
by fabulouscourage
Summary: Klaine break up. This is Blaine's reaction after Kurt has announced that he wants to break up with him, and how he tries to come to terms with it, and get over him. Blaine's POV.
1. Chapter 1

This is the first fic I've posted in quite a while. It's from Blaine's point of view, just after Kurt has broken up with him. I really hope you enjoy it.

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><p>The next few minutes of my life were going to be the most heart shattering I've ever experienced.<p>

In this next single moment, my life was about to turn around completely – I mean, is that even possible? Just a few seconds, a few words - And your whole life, upside down on its head, shattered, ruined and completely altered.

As the words come out of his mouth, I can't move. I can hardly breathe, my stomach is in knots and the rest of my body feels completely numb. I just stand there for a minute, looking straight down at the ground. My whole world feels like it's caved in.

"...I'm sorry" He mumbles, his eyes looking everywhere but at me. He finally fixes them to his feet. The numbness of my body begins to fade, and is replaced by a fierce and heavy ache in my chest. My eyes begin to glass up with tears and I'm speechless, still breathless.

"No...No, No Kurt. No..." That's all I can manage to say. I can feel my hands beginning to shake, my face heating up – I reach out and try to take his hand, but he just moves away from me, So I let it fall back to my side. This isn't really happening, is it? But it is. I need to speak, to tell him I just can't live without him. That he's my everything, the reason I'm happy, the reason that I can walk around with that constant, stupid grin on my face. How I'm willing to change for him, for us, how I'm willing to do anything for him if he can just stay with me. I want him to stay, I need him to.

I try to speak but all the words just flood out at once, a mess of jumbled pleas. " Just...Please, let me show you where we could...go, what we can do. I can change, Kurt, I can...I can adjust, I can grow.." I'm cut off by a realisation that catches my thoughts, and I can't speak anymore. It's too painful. Because I know, deep, deep down...That this is it. He is definite about this, serious. Our relationship is going to be over – And I'm never going to be able to hold him in my arms again. I'm never going to sing him to sleep again. I'm never going to kiss him again.

I look at him, I mean, I _really_look at him – study his features. His sweet, 'porcelain' skin is radiating, his eyes that were once so full of emotion; the pain, stress, happiness, love...the glee, Now seem empty. He stares almost straight back at me. But his eyes just glaze over, and it's as if he's just looking right through me. Then he closes his eyes. He closes his warm, magnetic, blue eyes for what seems like an eternity, and then he finally opens them again. And he's just looking back down at his feet.

He's beautiful, Perfect, and so wonderful. I'm mesmerized. I try to touch him again. I move my hand up from down by my side, and it's still violently shaking. I blink back what tears I can and swallow as I lean forward, and turn my palm up. I touch the bottom of his chin, and let out a jagged sigh and I stutter my thoughts into words, "I just c-can't imagine my life without you, and me." It's at this point I realise I'm crying. The tears are streaming. I can't remember the last time I've cried like this, the last time I've ever felt pain _this_ intense. I swallow, and take another deep breath before I continue, "There are _so_ many things I can't imagining doing, seeing and experiencing..." I start to sob, but I stop myself and take another deep breath. Slowly breathing, trying to continue, "Without _you_." I stroke his skin with my thumb, shaking my head as I whisper, "Please...Please...I beg you, _please_. Don't go."

But he doesn't say anything at all. Silence. My life is crashing before my eyes. He just brings his hands up to where my hand rests at the bottom of his face, and he wraps his fingers gently around mine. I make sure to appreciate every second my skin is in contact with his, with the softness that he is blessed with. But I hardly get a chance, before he's peeling away my fingers. He looks at me. He gestures, by pushing my hand away to my chest.

And I'm just standing there, motionless. I can't say a single word. Everything is gone. I have nothing, absolutely nothing if I don't have him. In desperation, in this bare desperation I've locked myself into, I'm trying to pull him close. I put my arms around him just trying to change what he wants, what he's thinking, what he's just said. I pull my head level with his, just forcing him to look into my eyes and to make him listen, one last time. I can't just leave it, I'm not going to leave all of it now. He said forever. He meant forever, I know he did. I speak in between my rugged breaths, holding him tightly to me, "You can't do this, you can't let everything we've been through together simply crash and fall down..." This is out of order, It's ridiculous. What we have is special, every moment is precious. He can't throw it away like this.

Once again without a single word, He pulls away. My arms are tightly clamped around his perfect petite waist, holding on to him so desperately. He gently pushes me back and he looks at me straight. The weight of my chest is now excruciating, nothing like I've ever felt before. His eyes meet mine for the final time. I'm crying again as he turns around, so he's now got his back to my face. He takes one step forward, and he looks back for the last time.

And then walks away.

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><p>Thank you for reading! Please tell me what you think?<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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><p>I'm just...standing there. Watching him walk away from me, from our relationship and from my whole world. But I'm just letting him go, I'm not following him. Why?<p>

The numbness returns, As well as a sense of disbelief as my brain begins to function again. Like, A switch is flicked, as if my mind can finally comprehend the truth and reality of the situation. He doesn't want to be together. He doesn't want me and him. He doesn't want me. And I have to respect his decision. I keep my eyes on him until he's out of my vision, until he's completely faded into the distance.

My eyes are stinging, my chest aching, cheeks burning. I take in a long drag of the cold air, trying to control my breathing - to get a hold of myself. I shiver, an icy chill running down my spine. I can't feel it, really. I can't feel much of anything right now. But it does give me a kick into gear.

It's freezing, and my jacket is still soaked from a spontaneous down pour of rain from earlier today - If I don't move quickly I'll end up sick, and that's the last thing I need right now. I look down at my hands, (which are still numb and shaking) and they're extremely pale. I can't help but think of _him_. I groan, bringing my hands to my face, my skin tingling under the cold of my palms. I run my hands through my un-gelled, untamed hair with a sigh mixed with another groan. Once again, I feel hot tears staining my face. _Again._My eyes just won't stop streaming. I'm a mess.

That's when I turn on my heels, and begin to walk. I don't know where I'm going. Just, away. Away from here. It slowly dawns on me that I should go home, I've been out all day and I haven't eaten anything at all. I can hear my stomach now, an aggressive growling. Home sounds perfect.

At this thought I realize how fortunate it was for me that he came to Westerville to end things between us. As cruel as this break up feels, he was considerate enough to travel here for my benefit. To make it easier on me.

I begin to quickly pace down the street that I know my way to my house from. I squeeze through a gap in a fence, that goes into a lane that acts as a short cut which leads to the street my house is on. I try my best to ignore and push back all of my feelings, emotions. The pain. It still lingers heavily on my chest and in my head, but I put up with it for now. I'll deal with it properly later.

It begins to rain again just as I make it to the front door of my house, tugging my keys out my pockets, unlocking and then forcing the door to open. No one's home - Big suprise. I peel off my jacket, hang it up.

Where should I even start? I'm standing in the hallway of my own home, feeling like an idiot having to plan out the simpliest of tasks.

My eyes, they're stinging like crazy - I ball my fists up and rub them as I drag myself up the stairs, and into the bathroom.

As I stumble over to the sink and turn on the tap, my mind goes back to thoughts of _him_. I wonder what's he's doing, how he is. He's on his way back home, I'm guessing. But Is he okay? Is he a complete wreck, like me? Or is he completely fine? Probably fine.

I splash my face with warm water. I need to stop thinking about anything other than the task at hand, I'm too easily distracted.

I can tell that I'm on edge and I'm going to breakdown at some point. Sooner rather than later, hopefully. I just want this over with.

My wet clothes cling to my skin, and It's uncomfortable. I pat my face dry with a soft, lavender towel as I mope into my bedroom. I throw the towel to the floor, yank my shirt off of my shoulders, stripping down and then changing into some sweatpants and an old shirt. I still feel frozen.

My eyes begin to sting again, my head dizzy, whatever appetite I had, diminished.

I don't even know what time it is. I can't remember what time I had left, when I had met up with him. I can't remember what words had actually come out of his mouth, and I don't want too. Yet. I know that he had called me on my cell, and his usual angelic voice was quiet, laced with intensity. He said that we needed to talk.

That's never a good thing to hear, those four words. 'We need to talk.' I could tell from his unusual tone that something was wrong.

I knew, though. I don't know how, but I just knew. I had a hitch as to what was about to happen, that he was going to break up with me, but I couldn't really believe it until he was actually saying these things, these words. He really made it clear that is was over this time. For good.

I've had petty arguements with him, stupid fights about stupid things. But that's part of any relationship, right? We've had the odd jealous moment here and there, resulting in a break up lasting no more than two days. We'd always kiss and make up. This time, things were different, though. He'd had enough. He'd had enough of _me_.

I'm weak, exhausted and heartbroken. I'd go drink or eat something but my legs just don't want to work, so I shut the curtains of my bedroom, shut the door and I fall on to my bed.

I crawl underneath the sheets, then I lie on my back. I begin turning and twisting, changing position and trying to get comfortable. I can't.

With a defeated sigh, I turn to the left, facing the picture frame on the nightstand beside my bed. The frame, the one with the picture of me and_him_at Prom in it. I force myself to ignore it for the moment, looking at the electronic clock beside it. 8:25pm. My Dad won't be home for a few hours yet. Good. My eyes find their own way back to the photograph, locking my gaze on it.

I stare at it. Just, stare. There's no emotion. Nothing. The pang of whatever sadness or pain I should feel just isn't there.

I focus my vision on_him_. _His_smile. _His_ outfit. _His_everything. The kilt he wore draping down his legs, the crown on his head perfectly positioned. I'm glaring at the picture, Absorbing just how amazing he looks.

I remember how proud I was of him that night, for standing up for himself, for us. How proud I was knowing that_he_was _my_boyfriend. How everyone else knew that he was _mine_.

He looks like a prince. My prince. His crown blending in with his hair like it's meant to be there, His heroic smile lighting up the whole image. He's my hero. Well. He_was_my hero.

A sudden irritation overwhelmed me. Annoyance, at myself. Why didn't I ever tell him how beautiful he was that night? Why didn't I tell him just how proud I was of him, how ecstatic I was to be able to be there with him, just how much I loved him? No, How much I _love_ him. Because I still love him, obviously.

I groan, twisting again to look away from the picture, the memory, other regrets seeping into my thoughts.

Then there it is. Suddenly that ache, that terrible feeling in my chest and stomach returns. I feel my eyes brim over with tears, and I turn back to peer over at the picture again. I'm just torturing myself. I glance at the shorter boy standing right there beside _him_, his face plastered with a ridiculous grin. _Me_.

I remember it without fault, that moment. During that moment, when the picture was taken, I was _so_ _happy_. He was, too. In this photograph, We look so normal. Naturally fitted for each other. And so _happy_.

The next thing I know I'm sobbing. The floodgates have burst wide open. There's no stopping it, I'm just crying and crying and crying. And I don't want it to stop, I'd been itching to get this out of system ever since he said all of those things to me. I'm trying to breathe, one deep breath at a time, not bothering to wipe the tears away anymore. There's no point, there's simply too many. So I just keep crying until I doze off.

I wake up, my eyelids fluttering open. For a few seconds there's a warm feeling inside, it's nice. Familiar. Lovely. I smile warmly to myself, almost questioning why I had cried so hard last night that I had ending up crying myself to sleep.

And that's when it hit me, the all too familiar ache in my chest.

For a few seconds then, Just a few seconds, everything was fine. It was like nothing had even happened. It felt_normal_. No pain had been inflicted, no damage done. Normality, the simplicity of pure normality...

But then, _it hits you_. You remember why you're in so much pain. You remember why you're hurt, who you've lost and it all comes rushing back to you and it hits you _so_ hard. That, that _really_ hurts.

I sigh, peer over at the clock. 6:00am. Huh. Why am I awake so early? That's crazy.

There's no school today, it's summer. Well it's supposed to be, but this week's weather has been unpredictable, really cold and cloudy. Raining. I force myself to sit up, I rub my face. I want to get up, I'm in desperate need of food now. A shower. I literally roll out of bed, clambering up to my feet and stumbling out of my room and into the bathroom just like last night.

I shower, washing away my worries, the hot water running them down the drain for fifteen minutes. I don't sing. I usually do, but for the first time in years I'm not in the mood to sing.

Then I'm out, in a towel and back in my room. I make my bed, draw the curtains. I peer outside, and my Dad's car isn't there. Either he didn't come home, or he's gone to work early.

Not that I care anyway.

I dress myself. Jeans. A shirt. I don't pay much attention, not as much I normally would have.

I go downstairs, into the kitchen. Make and drink some coffee. Eat something, cereal. I'm quite astonished I've actually done this, honestly. I expected to be cooped up in my room all day, crying and moping around in deep depression. Not up at 6am, eating cereal fully dressed. Huh.

When I'm done I toss the bowl aside, stepping out into the hall. My jacket's hanging up neatly on wall where I left it last night. It catches my eye, the pocket in particular. Where my cell phone is.

Maybe. I raise a brow, pursing my lips. Could he have tried to call me? Would he? No. But maybe a text, or a message. Maybe. Why not?

I stand there like a complete moron, staring at my jacket pocket. I can't shake the feeling that he may not of been serious about this, maybe - maybe it wasn't over after all? Another petty argument. Silly. But...he seemed _so_ sure.

But, Now I can't shake the thought.

I run over, reaching into the pocket and pulling out my cell. I glance at the screen. No missed calls, no messages. I sigh and lean against the wall.

Maybe he wants me to call him? No, no I can't.

But I can, and I do. Before I can stop myself I'm ringing him. Holding on to this pathetic strand of hope, that maybe he's not serious about this. I just want to hear his voice, one last time. His voice. Just once. It will help me understand everything.

I'm desperate.

I keep the phone clutched to my ear, listening intently as it rings. What do I say to him if he does answer? What can I say, what is there too say? Then, no answer. I groan, slumping down to the floor. I try again, I call him. No answer. Again. No answer. I try three more times. No answer.

I look at the ceiling, wrapping my arms around my knees. I sigh. I pick up my phone, I try to call him again. Even if he doesn't answer at least he might get the gist of how much I miss him, how much I care for him by the numerous amount of times I've tried to call him.

Then I hear it. A voice. _His_ voice.

"...Hello?"

I'm breathless, my heart races, a smile curving at my lips. This isn't over, I was being delousinal! I'm fine, _we're_fine! We were both just being drama queens, making a big deal out of absolutely nothing! Turning such a small problem into something huge and unnecessary.

I'm about to speak, to announce just how much I love him and how we can work through this together, when I'm cut off by a soft voice on the other end of the phone. _His_ voice.

"Blaine, _It's over_. Stop trying to call me. I made it pretty clear, did I not? We aren't getting back together. Understand that."

My heart shatters, hearing him say my name in such a stern and angry tone. I stutter, about to speak, apologise, beg him to take me back but then...

_Click._

He hung up on me. But I was right. I heard his voice, I get it. Now I _understand_.

Whatever I do, Whatever I say, _I can't get him back._Period. I recall his tone of voice, how serious he was. I try to relive as much of what he said to me in my mind. I remember how harsh his voice was, how he was so firm and so...sure. After all, He just pushed me away after I so desperately tried to hold on to him (literally). I don't even want to think about it, but, It all adds up.

He's just done with me. He's done with all of it. And even though it's close to impossible to accept and agonising to take in - he's made his mind up. I've got to walk away now.

I can't believe I was stupid enough to think otherwise.

So, I'm sat there in my hallway. Alone and speechless. I'm clueless as to how I can cope with this, and completely defeated as it finally and fully sinks in - What I thought, but obviously didn't understand before.

_It's over.  
><em>

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><p>Thank you for reading.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

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><p>I laugh. I'm <em>laughing<em>, shaking my head in shame at myself. Another two tears make their way down my face.

How had I been so stupid? Why had it taken _this_long to figure it all out? I recall what he had told me, the words now stuck in my head on repeat. So _obvious_, he really had been very clear. Crystal clear. And now, now I just seem like a clingy, desperate _idiot_.

I can remember everything now that I force myself to think about it.

We met in the park a few blocks from my house, The place we'd always meet when he came to Westerville. This was the place where he first gave me a goodnight kiss. The place where I first gave him flowers and where I had sang to him, when we were celebrating our one month anniversary.

There's a bench, which is situated in the corner of the park. It was where we'd always go together. It's positioned in between three or four trees, and it's really secluded, out of the way. Beautiful.

The bench was placed there five years ago in memory of an old man who, when alive, had spent a lot of time in that park with his family, so it's slowly wearing away. Pretty much all of the gloss on the bench has peeled off, the edges eroded. It didn't matter to us, not when we were both there together.

It was the perfect, romantic location. We'd sit there for hours, just talking. I'd bring my guitar and we'd take it in turns to sing to each other, then we'd sing duets. I loved it. Those days were by far the best days of my life.

When he called me, he told me he'd meet me there like always. Nothing out of the ordinary, but of course I could hear something was off, Hell, I could almost _feel_ the tension in his voice.

I left early, and even though it was raining I walked the long way around, not taking the short cut through the fence. I forced myself too. To give me more time. I _had_ to walk around for a bit, to think, to at least attempt to stop myself from worrying. It didn't really help, though. I was still nervous when I got to the bench, I sat there, waiting for him. He was perfectly on time, as always. As he approached me I jumped up, in awe of his beauty.

His eyes glistened, his hair bounced lightly with each step. I smiled at him, I made sure to smile softly. He just nodded. That was when it became obvious that something was up, and I could feel my eyes becoming sympathetic. I arced a brow, strolling closer to him.

"Hey...What's up? Is everything alright?"

He shook his head, looking down.

"No. There's...there's something I need to speak to you about."

I just nodded, gesturing for him to continue. He looked up at me, and my eyes met his. If I had known that that would have been the last time I could look into them, to study him properly, I don't think I would have had the courage to pull my eyes away from his.

"I mean, something I need to tell you."

His voice was empty, almost sharp. That was when I first felt the weight on my chest, just _knowing_ what was coming. I nodded again, swallowing, keeping a blank expression.

"Blaine...I-I don't know how to say this, without..hurting you. I don't think there is a way. So I just...I need to be honest."

At this point it was it was blatantly clear what was going to happen. I looked down at feet, to avoid any and all eye contact with him. As lovely as it would of been to continue looking at him, it would just make this whole thing so much harder for both of us.

"I'm just going to say it. I'm breaking up with you. For the last time. This...this is it, Blaine. It's always just...one thing after the other. It's almost gotten to the point where we're saying 'Oopsy daisy! I've hurt you again, I've broken your feelings into a thousand pieces, crushed your heart and made you feel like you're worthless.' Every squabble, every disagreement. It hurts me, Blaine. I can't do this anymore."

My heart sank.

"This isn't one of those break ups where I call you up the next day apologising, or where you call me telling me why you need me to stay with you. This is the last time**.**You need to understand where I'm coming from, you do don't you?"

I thought it was a rhetorical question, until he paused. Even though I thought I understood, (but obviously didn't) I just nodded, not looking up. He continued.

"The start of our relationship was amazing. It was new, brilliant, exciting. There was electricity. Now, with every fight, the words we throw around become more aggressive, more offensive and insulting. Our last break up was over something as stupid as a bowtie! It's too much for me to take, it's been one fight too many. I just, I can't do this anymore."

I crossed my arms, for two reasons. For one, I think he needed to know I was still awake or alive. I hadn't looked anywhere else or changed position for while. And two, because I felt like I was going to fall to the ground if I didn't support myself. I was hurting.

"We have had such a wonderful and magical journey, Blaine. You have given me so much, so much m-more...than anyone else could have ever given me."

I still couldn't look at him, he wasn't himself. He was someone new, and I didn't like who they were. It was still him, but it wasn't. He was so cold, so stiff. That alone broke my heart.

Even though I wasn't looking at him, I could still hear him. His voice broke a little, he paused. He stuttered.

"Th-Thank you, for everything. But it's time for our journey to end. We've had the spark, the chemisty, the romance. And I'm so sorry, but I don't...I don't think we can stay friends."

It was at this moment I felt an intense stab in my chest. It was deep, I could tell that this wound wasn't going to heal for a very long time.

"Us, being friends, hanging out without actually being together...It'll hurt me too much, it would _kill_you Blaine. And you know that I have said things like this over, and over again. Many, many times. And so have you!"

He was being honest, and it hurt. The truth hurts. I had broken up with him so many times over the most ridiculous things, and vice versa. Every time it happened we'd both end up heartbroken and back in each others arms after a few days. I love him too much, I _loved_ him too much back then to ever break up with him properly.

"But this time, I need you to understand that this is happening. And this is the last time it is happening. I promise. It's over, Blaine, please. Understand."

I didn't look at him at all as he said any of it. I tried to listen as intently as I could, and I did, I took in every word of it and it was one of the hardest moments of my life.

I looked to the left a little, then straight back down at the wet grass making my shoes damp. That was the minute when I was just staring at the ground.

He mumbled the words "..I'm sorry." Then after that, I don't remember much. I remember crying, pleading and trying to pull him back to me. That's it.

So now I understand, I get it. He's had enough. It's as simple as that. I never intended to hurt him and I never wanted him to go. I still don't want him to go, because I am so, so in love with him.

There's upsides and downsides in every relationship, I'm sure. But for me, no matter how many scuffles, squabbles or fights we had, the upsides we had were all worth it. The late night phone calls, the coffee, the music. His charming smile he would flash me, the wink he would slip in every now and again. How he would ramble on and on about fashion, musicals, glee club. I listened to every single word of it. His voice, his eyes, his smile. That _smile_. It was everything to me - And It still is everything to me.

During our relationship, when everything was going good, it was going great, perfectly. But when things turned ugly, they were bad. Very bad. Petty little issues could ruin us. An accidental slip of words could leave one another deeply wounded, because hearing such offensive, insulting things from the one your adore most is almost as painful as hearing the one person you love end your relationship with them completely...

I had never really thought about the negative side of our relationship. All of the break ups, the insults and the disagreements. I guess, for him, and for other people too, it's sometimes just too hard to take. The positives aren't worth it all. I guess, I guess do understand him in a way. I understand now, that what we have is finished, it's completely over. But understanding why exactly, I'm still going to have to get my head around that.

He said us being friends would kill me, But this break up was going to kill me. It _is_ killing me.

When you read about break ups in books, when you see them in movies and on TV, when the character is just wandering around, moaning, complaining. Saddness and emptiness warping their whole way of living. You think it's just over dramatic, it's ridiculous.

I promise you, It isn't. It's accurate. Scarily so, actually. It's so painful, heart wrenching. Watching the one person you've given your heart and soul to just walking away. The one thing you put your everything into, trying to keep it strong; The one thing you tried so hard to support, and the other person just giving up and walking off into the distance.

I stand up, taking a deep breath. I wipe my face, and clear my throat. I pick my phone back up, and I turn it off, putting it back in the pocket of my jacket. I _smile_.

Because I know it's time. I'm ready. No matter how hard it's going to be, no matter how much I need to sacrifice, It's for the best. It's going to make him happy, plus it'll be better for me in the long run, and now...It is going to happen.

I'm going to get over him.

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><p>Thank you for reading.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

I'm sorry this took so long to update.**  
><strong>  
>Chapter 4<p>

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><p>It's been a week and four days, now. Since he left.<p>

I haven't spoken to him, or heard from him, in eleven days. Actually...I haven't spoken or heard from anyone in eleven days.

Well, I had a couple of brief conversations with my Dad and that's about it.

I'm bored. All of my work is finished and I have nothing to do. I'm not in the mood to sing. There's nothing I need to do, nothing I want to do. And I have no one to talk to.

I've gone out of the house, wandered around town on my own. I've taken endless walks.

Secretly, I've been hoping to maybe run into someone I know, because maybe, just a brief 'hello' could make me feel a little better, a smile could make me a little more hopeful, a 'how are you doing?' could make my day.

I've realised, though, that even if someone asks 'how are you?' they're only doing it to be polite. Not because they want to know the answer, not because they're interested.

I've also come to understand that all I think I need is someone to listen to me, someone to talk to. Well, just someone to understand what I'm going through. Someone, anyone, must care, right?

I'm friends with a lot of people. Some people.

All of WMHS's glee club must know that Kurt had finished with me. I was friends with them. Do none of them care? Or did all of them just hate me? Pretended to like me to keep Kurt happy. Probably.

I'm lonely. That's it, really. Pathetic.

During the past week where I've been moping around by myself, I've spent more than one whole day just sitting in coffee shops, in libraries, in public places. I've been surrounding myself with random people, complete strangers - I just feel that desperate.

And even though I'm practically drowning in a sea of people, I still feel completely alone.

I considered the idea, that even if the New Directions don't want to know, I still have the Warblers to fall back on. Well, no, not really.

I was never super close to any of them, the only guy I ever opened myself up to properly was _him._

Anyway, I've never tried to make contact with any of them whilst me and Kurt were together - If I tried now I'd seem clingy and annoying.

Even though, I have been thinking that maybe I should call some of the Warblers. If anyone is going to talk to me, it would be one of them. Well, if any of them has the time or attention span to listen to me.

They would know about me and Kurt breaking up. Kurt was a lot closer to them then I ever was, he felt the need to become really good friends with each and every one of them when he transferred - and being the polite and friendly guy he is - he clicked pretty well with all of them. Would he tell them? No. Maybe.

Yes.

Do they not care, then? Does _no one_care?

Getting over him is so difficult. Why is it _this_hard? This is so unbelievably frustrating.

And to make things worse, I am so confused.

Because some days, I get such a..._sick_ feeling. I think about things, about everything. I over think things and over thinking just ruins me. Everything about my life seems so empty, So meaningless. As if each minute holds something familiar, something I've seen, felt and experienced before. Every second drags on. I feel so fed up with my life and everything in it. I can get as low as having suicidal thoughts and It _really_ worries me.

And then other days I'm positive and I have a ray of hope, hell, I have_rays_of hope and I believe in myself and sometimes I can even smile. The sky isn't dull, the sky is bright and birds sing pretty, graceful songs, not annoying, patronizing ones. Everything I encounter gives me that same feeling of the warm sun kissing your skin after you've been cold for so long. _I have hope and everything is bright._

And then some days I'm just numb.

The only difference between these days is a few hours of sleepless nights and dreams of how I wish my life could be.

_Easy._

Like it was before. Everyday seemed bright and hopeful and positive. Because I had him. With him I was proud of who I am, I could stand up with my head held high and without any hesitation I'd stand up for everything that I believed in, I'd stand up for myself, for him, for anyone.

Now it's hard to even get out of bed.

I'm sitting here, alone on the bench in the isolated area of the park. My bench. _Our_bench.

It's quite warm today, the sun's rays are beating down on my face as I sit. I'm thinking about him. About us. I can't help it, I really do try to stop my thoughts floating off into Kurt-land. It really hurts me when I think about him too much, about us, anything to do with _him_. Yet I feel weirdly complete at the same time. Again, Confusion.

There's some guys kicking about a football, some girls watching and giggling obnoxiously. My eyes are fixed on the ground. I hear them laughing, shouting, complaining about something. Not that I care, of course.

It's only when I hear _my_ name that I jump, startled, and look up, shocked as a bright eyed, blonde-haired guy stares down at me with a soft smile.

"Hey!" He says a bit too enthusiastically for my liking, as today, well, today is one of my down days.

I squint up at him and mumble back, "Hey."

I probably sound like a miserable, grumpy jerk who's rude and stuck up. But inside, I'm delighted, I'm ecstatic. Finally someone is talking to me. Someone I'd like to talk to.

It's Jeff. Classmate and fellow Warbler.

I like Jeff. He's an awesome singer, he's kind of quiet and he's a little awkward.

He's a great guy, though, and I even had a little crush on him when I first enrolled at Dalton. It was nothing big, I never told him. Never did, never will.

"I, um, heard about..." He stutters and pauses, then clears his throat before continuing, "Er, How're you doing, man?"

I shoot him a smile, which he can obviously tell is completely false, and I lie quietly, "I'm fine. I've been a little rough but I'm fine."

He sighs and sits beside me. "I heard." He says bluntly, not looking at me.

"Heard about what?"

"You know..." He moves his hands, shifting. "...About you and him."

"Me and who?"

"You and Kurt."

As I hear _his_ name come out of Jeff's mouth I squirm. He notices and glances towards me.

"Apparently, you're taking it pretty hard."

I don't reply. I just sit there, eyes fixed to the ground. I'm unsure what my expression is, hopefully it's just simply expressionless. Jeff shifts uncomfortably again.

Who told him, though? Was it Kurt? Had he been spreading this around like it was some stupid piece of pointless gossip? I'm about to ask him how he knows, out of curiosity, but he speaks first and I decide to keep my mouth shut.

"Blaine..." I feel his gaze on me. After what seems like a lifetime, I lift my eyes to his.

"I know how hard a break up can be, especially a rough one..." I see the hesitation in his eyes, the unwillingness in his voice in bringing up a subject like this.

His past relationships haven't exactly been straight forward, in fact they've been the opposite. His last love interest was a girl he fell head-over-heels for, the girl who ditched him for some other older, more popular guy. Jeff was devastated and everybody knew about it. It's easy to see that this is difficult for him.

"...I just want you to know that, I mean...I know this sounds cheesy and ridiculous, but it does get easier. It hurts, It...It really hurts. I know, man, and It just...It gets better. I know that this might seem like total crap and It feels like the whole world is, like, collapsing. But, give it time and I...I promise you, you'll be okay." He nods, taking in a deep breath. "You'll be okay, man."

He nudges my shoulder lightly, and the corners of his lips twitch into a smile. I return it, and It's genuine this time.

You know, I could probably cry. Jeff is trying to help me feel better. It's clearly hurting him talking about it, yet he still sits here and rambles on about it. Someone cares. _Someone understands._

It's so nice to hear that I'm not the only one who feels like the world is ending. It's happened to him, he knows, he _understands._

I'm kind of speechless, so I just nod and nudge him back. He lets his smile widen and I allow mine to do the same.

"JEFF! YOU PLAYING OR WHAT?"

Jeff's head jolts up at the sound of his name and he grins, waving to his impatient looking brother who holds a ball in his hands. There's a few other guys too, they're younger than us so I assume they're Jeff's brother's friends. The girls that were there before are gone.

"UM, YEAH. ONE SEC!" He yells back.

Jeff looks to me and smiles again. "We have two more weeks before school. Make the most of it." He says as he stands, and he hits my shoulder again. "Take it easy, man." He nods once more, and begins to walk towards his brother.

I quickly stand and call after him, "Jeff?"

He turns with a grin, "Yeah?"

"Thanks." I smile widely. It feels sort of unnatural, but it also feels nice.

"Any time." He stops, then glances from his brother back to me.

"Hey - Do you want to play?" He questions, his brow arcing.

My response is delayed, but I accept, "Yeah. I'd love too."

I jog up next to him and we walk over to his brother.

When we get there, He eyes me slightly, then looks to Jeff for an explanation. Jeff just shrugs, "Yeah. Blaine's playing."

His brother shrugs back, throwing the ball at me, which I catch easily.

"Whatever. He's on your team though."

Jeff glances at me with a small smile and just gives me this _look_. Because he knows I can play football, and he knows I can play it well.

After we thrashed Jeff's brother and his cocky little friends at the football game, Jeff insisted we play football more, and hang out more often. Of course, I agreed and promised I'd text him or something.

I'm now at home, sitting on my couch and smiling to myself. _Smiling._Because, today I had laughed, played football and I'd enjoyed myself. I had gone over an hour without thinking about_him_. I don't feel lonely. I don't feel alone. Because I had spoken to Jeff and I'm friends with him again.

I truly thought I was kidding myself when I thought that I was ready to get over him.

But, you know, Getting over Kurt doesn't seem so impossible now. 

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading.<p>

Review? I'd love to know what you think.


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